For the longest time, I thought I had it all figured out. After graduation, I’d move back home, share a bedroom with my younger sister, and enroll in an online post-grad program to save money. It was practical. It was safe. It was what everyone around me expected and for a while, I expected it of myself too.
But the more I sat with that plan, the more I felt like I was settling for a version of life I didn’t want. I wasn’t just going home. I was going backward. And deep down, I knew that no amount of cost-cutting could make up for what I’d lose mentally. The idea of shrinking my independence, freedom, and space to grow just to stay comfortable started to feel like a slow undoing of everything I’d worked for.
The Turning Point
I hit a moment where I realized: if I didn’t change my circumstances, no one else would. So I opened my laptop and started applying for jobs relentlessly. Not 30, not 100, but over 300 applications sent into the void. I wasn’t waiting for the “perfect role” anymore—I just wanted a chance. One opportunity that could keep me rooted where I wanted to be.
It was exhausting. Repetitive. Hopeful one moment, soul-crushing the next. But eventually, it paid off. I landed a job that gave me the financial security to not move home. I could breathe. I could stay in the city that makes me feel alive. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to sacrifice my mental health to be financially stable.
Learning to Bet on Myself
In the middle of all of this, I faced another fear I’d been avoiding for years: getting my driver’s license. I had spent four years avoiding it, telling myself I wasn’t ready, mixing up my left and right, convincing myself I’d never feel confident behind the wheel.
But something shifted when I realized how much of my life I was keeping small just to avoid discomfort. So I did it. I booked the lessons, practiced through the panic, and eventually passed. That milestone wasn’t just about driving; it was proof that I could do the things that once terrified me.
And the same went for my career path. Instead of choosing the “safe” post-grad route, I applied to a Sports & Entertainment Marketing program in Toronto. It’s not easy to break into this field; everyone tells you that. But it’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. I wanted to work behind the scenes on red carpets and concert venues, and more recently the NFL or NBA. For the first time, I wasn’t shrinking my goals to fit into someone else’s expectations. I was choosing the harder road, because it led somewhere I actually wanted to go.
The Difference Between Independence and Responsibility
I’ve learned that financial independence is only half the equation. Responsibility is the part no one glamorizes. I’ve seen people who are technically independent still make the same reckless decisions over and over again; spending more than they have, ignoring red flags in their budget, and wondering why nothing changes. I’ve watched people spiral, stuck in patterns they refuse to break, because adjusting their lifestyle feels harder than staying stuck.
Seeing that up close made it painfully clear: I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to run on empty just to pretend I had it together. I didn’t want to dream big while making decisions that chipped away at those dreams.
Becoming Her
I used to be scared of this version of me. The one who skips out on takeout, sticks to a budget, applies to jobs like it’s a part-time role, and dares to pursue a dream that doesn’t come with guaranteed success. The girl who wakes up early, says no when it matters, and chooses structure over chaos. I thought being her meant losing my spark.
But becoming her? It’s been the best decision I’ve ever made.
Because this version of me doesn’t settle. She doesn’t spiral. She doesn’t wait for someone else to save her. She shows up—for herself, her future, and the life she’s building piece by piece.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade her for anything.